Puberty Blues
by AndreeaRaducan
Summary: An awkward 'growing up' moment for Henry leads to father/son bonding time and a realisation for the 13 year old boy. Rated T for mature references.


**A/N: Just a ramble that came to me while I was changing my sheets.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**

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Something sticky on his thigh.

That was all thirteen year old Henry LaMontagne registered as he opened his eyes to pitch blackness. While his eyes attempted to adjust, his brain registered only one thing.

His boxers were slightly sticky and kind of warm.

So were the sheets.

No way.

"Uh uh, no way, not happening," Henry hissed to himself as he flung the covers back and leapt out of bed. Flicking on his bedside lamp, he looked at the damp patch on the sheets.

That was definitely 'baby juice', as his mates had taken to calling it. No doubt about it.

"Crap," he muttered.

He couldn't just dump them in the wash. That would probably raise some awkwardness with his parents.

He could rinse them in the bathtub. But then how would he explain the fresh sheets on his bed and the damp ones on the washing line?

Maybe he could just put them in the washer.

Grabbing his old sweats, Henry discarded his boxers, dumping them in the bottom of his laundry hamper. Using some tissues, he cleaned the mess off of his thigh, before pulling the sweats on. Stripping the sheets from his bed, he bundled them tightly in his arms, and carried them down the hall to the laundry, making sure to keep his footsteps as light as possible.

Pausing for a moment outside his parents' bedroom, he was glad to hear nothing but silence from within, the only sound being an occasional sigh and the rustle of sheets as one of them shifted in their sleep.

Continuing his slow path down the hall, Henry was careful to avoid knocking into furniture, and heaved a sigh of relief when he reached the door without trouble.

As he entered the laundry, he flicked the light switch on with his elbow, and made a beeline for the washing machine.

"Ok...," he hummed softly, opening the door and pushing the sheets in. Closing it as quietly as he could, he stood back and studied the buttons on the panel.

"How the hell does Mom work this thing?" he muttered, frowning and shaking his head. He leaned in slightly, so he could read the labels better with his tired eyes, concentrating on the fine print to try and figure out what to do.

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when someone tapped lightly on the doorframe.

"Henry? What are you doin'?" Will asked softly, stepping into the room and giving his teenage son a curious look. "I'm sure your mother would appreciate you doin' the laundry, but it's two in the mornin'"

Henry bit his lip, avoiding eye contact with his father. "I had to wash my sheets," he mumbled.

"Why?" Will pressed, leaning back against the laundry wall. He didn't whether to be amused or sympathetic when the only answer Henry could give was to wave in the general direction of his crotch.

"Ah...," he mused, pushing himself off the wall and walking over to the washing machine. "You set the time...," he started, leaning down and pushing one button a couple of times. "Add the powder...and press START"

The machine whirred to life as Will looked up at his son with a half smile on his face. "For future reference"

Henry swallowed thickly, nodding as Will stood up. He complied when Will placed his hands on his shoulders and steered him from the laundry to the kitchen. Sliding up onto the counter stool, he watched as his father began preparing two mugs of hot chocolate.

"You don' needa be embarrassed, Henry...it's normal," Will said gently as he put a jug of milk in the microwave.

"Yeah...I know," Henry replied softly, looking at his hands. "You aren't gonna tell Mom, are you?" he asked suddenly. Will grinned, shaking his head.

"Buddy, your mom's a profiler. She'll figure it out once she realises that your sheets are magically washin' an' changin' 'emselves," he laughed. Henry didn't whether to laugh or cringe, but found himself laughing with his father.

"I know it's awkward...trust me, I've been there, done that...but it's completely normal, and your mom's not gonna say anythin'. She knows it happens," Will explained. Henry nodded, accepting the mug of hot chocolate that contained two floating marshmallows.

"You can always come and talk to me, alright? 'Bout anythin' at all, I'll always be willin' to hear ya out," Will offered. Henry grinned.

"Alright. Thanks Dad," he replied, sliding off the stool again, clutching the mug in his hands.

"At least now ya know how to use the washin' machine," Will teased. Henry laughed as he began to leave the kitchen.

"Go on. Get to bed, you monster," Will laughed, playfully swatting the back of Henry's head. Henry grinned, disappearing down the corridor to grab fresh sheets on his way back to bed.

Will leaned against the counter, his own mug in his hands. He couldn't believe how quickly Henry had grown up. It felt like yesterday he'd held the tiny infant in his arms just after he was born.

Now he was almost a young adult.

Henry slid back under the covers, the empty mug on his bedside table. Curling on his side, he realised that maybe his dad wasn't as weird as he thought. Sure, he did and said some pretty strange things a lot of the time, but he was actually pretty cool.

In that moment, while he'd always loved his mom and dad, Henry realised he'd never want any other parents than the ones he already had.


End file.
